


Some Assembly Required

by lovelornity



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Character Study, Domestic Avengers, Fix-It, Gap Filler, Gen, Pre-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Pre-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Tony Stark-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-07 03:23:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20302642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelornity/pseuds/lovelornity
Summary: Filler Fic betweenCaptain America: Winter SoldierandAge of Ultron. Because we all could have used an entire movie of the Avengers assembling, becoming friends, and becoming a team. And a thematic prelude toCaptain America: Civil War.





	Some Assembly Required

Unbidden, Tony arrived at Natasha’s hearing before Congress. He lurked in the back by the door and mused over the circumstances. He had often been the target of congressional outrage, held accountable for accusations of treason, privatization, you name it. He was used to the spotlight. And yet, Natasha—or Natalia Romanoff or Natalie Rushman—the super spy who worked in the shadows of SHIELD, was now front and center—its spokesperson, its defender, its survivor.

She handled herself as Tony would have done, her strength and confidence anything but surprising, yet satisfying for Tony to see on display. They locked eyes as she exited the hearing room, leaving bruised egos and incredulity in her wake. Neither one smiled, but Tony could tell she was pleased to see him by the way she gave him a curt nod. “Stark.”

Without asking, Tony followed her through the halls of the Capitol and out to a waiting car—Tony’s. He got in after Natasha, as she instructed the driver to take them to Memorial Hospital. The destination surprised Tony, but he covered by monotonically asking, “How bad?”

He knew nothing save for what he had seen on the news: Captain America: Traitor? SHIELD infiltrated. The fall of the Triskelion by helicarriers modified by Tony’s own repulsor technology. He would learn later that it was worse than that—Fury dead, decades of HYDRA’s involvement in world affairs, the casualties of the aftermath of SHIELD's implosion. But at that moment, he felt crippled by his lack of knowledge, by his exclusion. So much for the foundation he thought had been laid back in New York. But that was a conversation for another day.

“Captain Rogers sustained major injuries,” Natasha replied blankly, confirming Tony’s suspicions. 

“What the hell happened?”

Natasha didn’t answer him; instead she looked down at his chest to where the glow of the arc reactor should have been. “I could ask you the same thing.”

“Yeah, well, SHIELD was noticeably absent for that one,” Tony replied bitterly.

“SHIELD is dead in the water. It’s time to cover your ass.”

“Mine isn’t the one that’s been exposed.”

“No, you’ve always been arrogantly clear about who you are.”

“And yet, when the shit hit the fan—or, more accurately, the helicarrier repulsor turbines that _I_ designed—I have to find out about it on the news?”

“Your assistance wasn’t required.”

“No, I saw that. You found yourself a new flyboy. Who, let me guess, plays well with others?”

Natasha smiled at that. “Is this about you being kept out of the loop or are you actually jealous you aren’t the only Avenger with flight capabilities?”

Tony balked at that. “Avenger? You throw that term around loosely. The Avenger Initiative was dead long before SHIELD. When the Norse God returned to his alien kingdom, Captain Serious went back to government work, and you and your fellow super spy vanished back into whatever secret hole you crawled out of. An engineer and a scientist do not a team of superheroes make. Besides, who decided Big Bird got to sit at the cool kids' table?”

“He was there when we needed him.”

“Right. And I am only a consultant, not an agent. You want my tech, not me. Iron Man, yes. Tony Stark, no. Only problem is, I _am_ Iron Man.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, immune to Tony’s bravado. She pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger.

“Look, Tony. By the time we knew what we were getting into, we were in too deep. Sound familiar?” she asked, alluding to Tony’s crusade against AIM and the Extremis virus. She cut him off from speaking with a stern look before he could get defensive. “If you want to help, see what you can make of the data that was leaked. SHIELD may be dead, but its enemies aren’t.”

“Got it,” Tony replied flatly, as the car pulled up to the hospital. Natasha got out, but Tony did not follow. She stuck her head back inside the car. “You’re not coming?” Tony made a face and shrugged his shoulders. “Hospitals. I trust you’ll know where to find me if you _need_ me.” He tapped on the back of the driver’s seat in front of him. Natasha shut the door and watched the car disappear around the corner.

When Steve eventually regained consciousness, he found a bouquet on the table next to his bed. The flowers were red, white, and blue with an American flag centerpiece. The unsigned note inside read, “Welcome back to the land of the living, Capsicle.”

* * * * * * 

Over the next few days, Tony busied himself with the leaked SHIELD files Natasha had released to the public. He knew it was an essential task, that, as evidenced by HYDRA’s murderous Project Insight, his very life could depend upon what secrets he could find buried in the mother of all paper trails. The HYDRA cronies would be scurrying into darkness like sewer rats before too long. If they were going to retaliate, make good on HYDRA’s temporary transparency, it would have to be done quickly.

He wrote a few programs to flag files that met specific parameters. Many were heavily encrypted and could take weeks to unlock. Some of the results seemed like good leads—a scientist named List and a sketchy research facility somewhere in eastern Europe—and others that seemed like rabbit holes of distraction—something called Project TAHITI that had been overseen by the late, great Phil Coulson. Tony stashed the file away for Bruce to look at once things simmered down.

When that might be, Tony did not know. Whereas earlier, he had bemoaned his exclusion, he now found himself essentially Fury 2.0 The man himself, Tony had since learned, was on the lamb, following the secretly unsuccessful attempt on his life. He was still playing puppet master behind the scenes, but to what degree, Tony did not know. He did find out from Natasha that his tombstone was a designated dropsite to get information to him. Tony admired the man’s showmanship. Even dead, the man had style. 

The role of the organization formerly known as SHIELD had officially been taken over by Maria Hill at Stark Industries. Dozens of analysts were following leads around the world and processing the endless amount of data. But Tony was still sore over having missed HYDRA’s infiltration when he had hacked SHIELD on the helicarrier two years earlier. _“An intelligence organization that fears intelligence.”_ He had been cautious then, suspicious. But not nearly enough, it seems. Some things he would handle personally, as a matter of pride, an asuasion of his own guilt.

It was not long before Stark Tower reflected the solitary _A_ that remained of the sign Tony never got around to repairing after the battle of New York.

Banner had been a resident since Tony had shown him the lab he had designed and the living quarters constructed to house him and the Big Guy. Bruce had seemed touched by the gesture, especially when Tony presented him with the specs for modified elastic-based pants that would stretch to fit both the scientist and the Hulk, depending on who was presently joining the party. And Tony had brought him in on the peace-keeping, global security project that had been occupying his thoughts since New York.

Tony had not asked Natasha to move in. She had simply appeared one day alongside Clint, who moved around their quarters and the common area as if they had always been there. Rather than feel annoyed, Tony was strangely comforted by their presence. It was not as if they were unwelcome. 

After New York, he had reconstructed Stark Tower to house the Avengers and their entire operation. Tony was satisfied to see the results of his work finally put to proper use after two years. And suddenly there was more to the Avengers than a doctor and an engineer—well, a doctor who turned into a large, green rage monster and an engineer with an entire robot army at his disposal. But with 007² back in the mix, Tony felt like the band was really getting back together. Now agents without an agency, they turned their allegiance to the Avenger Initiative, to eradicating the last vestiges of HYDRA, to protecting the world from the type of evil they had almost inadvertently unleashed.

Thor was the next one to show up on on Tony’s doorstep. Or, more accurately, at his penthouse launch bay, hammer in hand. Tony was surprised to see him attired not in his usual Asgardian splendor, but dressed a bit like a hipster, his long hair swept back into a man-bun that made Tony forget the man’s alien divinity for a second. Until he opened his mouth.

“Tony! My friend!” Thor’s voice resonated so loudly it made Tony’s teeth chatter, and when the man clapped his huge hand against Tony’s back in greeting, he wished he had been wearing his armor. 

“Good to see you, Blondie. I’d say welcome back to Earth, but by the looks of it, you’re been here for a while. Nice work in London, by the way.”

“It was a great battle,” Thor replied. “Valiantly waged by Asgardians and Midgardians alike.” 

“And costly too,” Tony added, sympathetically. Word had since reached him that Thor’s mother had been killed, as well as his pain-in-the-ass brother. “I was sorry to hear of your losses,” he said sincerely, though he really only meant Thor’s mother. He had been glad to learn of the demise of the maniac who had almost gotten him killed, who had unleashed the nightmare scenario that haunted him still.

“Your condolences are kindly met,” Thor replied wistfully. “But now, I come bearing news of the Chitaurian scepter wielded by my brother.”

The scepter had been on Tony’s radar as well. It had previously been in the possession of SHIELD, but after the agency’s demise, it had fallen off the radar completely. No doubt confiscated by HYDRA operatives within SHIELD, and for how long? Clint was especially anxious to locate the alien device. And understandably too.

Thor’s intel lined up with incoming data from Maria Hill’s sources—reports of missing persons in eastern Europe, bodies turning up with obvious signs of experimentation that Thor insisted could only be the work of the alien staff. Without any prompting, Thor settled into his quarters, along with promises of righting Loki’s wrongs.

Steve was the last to arrive, his supersoldier serum saving him from death, but not enough to completely negate his recovery time. He had spent nearly 2 weeks in the hospital, kept company by Natasha occasionally and Sam Wilson, who seemed particularly attentive. After Steve woke up, he discovered several more entries on his pop culture list, along with an entirely new section for music. When the pair turned up at Avengers Tower several weeks later, Sam stood behind Steve like some sort of bodyguard, Tony noticed, amused by the thought until he remembered his childish dislike of the man who had _“been there when they needed him.”_

Tony sized him up as Steve introduced them, clasping his outstretched hand firmly and eyeing him out of the corner of his narrowed eyes. “Any friend of Grandad here is a friend of mine,” he stated amicably before turning his attention back to Steve. “How was death attempt number two? You’re awfully fond of almost dying. I wasn’t a fan of it myself, but you. It must be becoming old hat. Glad you didn’t go towards the light, Cap.”

“Thanks, Tony,” Steve smiled good-humoredly in a way that surprised Tony. He had expected a little more anger, more angst from a guy who had almost died at the hands of a HYDRA assassin, but he sensed that Steve was remarkably centered, focused. Tony found this rather annoying. Especially since, Tony recalled, said HYDRA assassin was reportedly, according to Natasha, none other than Steve’s childhood chum and World War II buddy, Bucky Barnes. What were the chances?

Tony found he could take this in stride, however. One of his best buddies was a living Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Norse Gods were real, and they were actually aliens. But not the same aliens that attempted to colonize Earth through a hole in the sky. The world had gotten infinitely weirder over the past few years. Tony figured he could roll with the existence of another superserum supersoldier. He supposed Captain America’s existence had always been weird. He wondered what the new guy would make of all the crazy. 

Tony led Steve and Sam on an unasked for tour of Avengers Tower, where Steve was reunited with his teammates and Sam introduced. Tony had to hand it to the guy—he was taking this all remarkably well. He did not even flinch when the God of Thunder started up a conversation with him. Tony found this annoying too. To his disappointment, Sam Wilson was alright. 

Steve had been kept up-to-date on the latest developments regarding HYDRA by Natasha, but Tony gathered that was not what the two were speaking about when he caught them engaged in a quiet conversation. Tony was looking at them when they both glanced over at him simultaneously. Clearly there was a secondary op of some kind under way. He wondered, bitterly, if his assistance would be required this time. It did not take long for him to have his answer.

Steve graciously accepted his new digs, and Tony offered one of the unused suites to Sam, who tentatively accepted, though, Tony was informed, he would often be away following up on leads. Which was where Tony came in. Or, more specifically, Tony’s highly sophisticated computer systems, to locate Steve’s brainwashed friend-turned-assassin, who may or may not have begun to reclaim his identity, or at the very least, remember who he used to be.

The earnestness of Steve’s request and the way in which he emphasized the fact that it would not affect the group’s primary mission of mopping up HYDRA and tracking down the remnants of the Chitauri invasion, made it difficult for Tony to say no. And so he agreed, earning him an approving nod from Natasha and a million dollar smile from Captain America. An acceptable currency, Tony decided.

The man so seldom smiled, at least not that Tony had witnessed. He had seen Rogers on occasion since New York, at various state functions, the occasional SHIELD briefing. They shared a mutual cordiality, a joke or two at one anothers’ expense, but mostly Steve looked uncomfortable in the social situations and highly professional in the work ones. Tony disliked either, and hid his disdain and discomfort behind bravado and feigned disinterest. 

With Natasha’s guidance, Steve began learning the art of reading Tony Stark, how to access the man beneath all the bullshit. But before too much progress was made, Tony’s visits to the east coast grew fewer, until he disappeared entirely. He had not seen Steve since the events on the Golden Coast that had led to premature eulogies and the removal of his arc reactor. Both men had recently risen from the metaphorical not-dead-yet ashes. 

It remained to be seen how that would affect the team and their chemistry. Regardless of how he felt now (post Triskelion, post _“your assistance wasn’t required”_), New York had laid a nice foundation for their alliance, overriding their rather intense initial meeting. Facing death with someone tended to have that effect on a relationship. That and celebratory shawarma. And watching the star spangled man with a plan squirm as Natasha attempted to play wingman to SHIELD’s most eligible bachelor. Tony wondered if Steve had ever taken her up on any of her suggestions. 

* * * * *

After a week, Avengers Tower was operating smoothly. Personalities were meshing, and living together was actually proving to increase their compatibility. Tony was immediately amused by Steve’s summer camp counselor vibe, exerting his authority in a casual, non-threatening way. The contrast between Counselor Steve and the cold, immovable Capsicle Tony first met two years ago was drastic. 

And Tony began to recognize in him the man in the stories his father told him as a child. He felt that his father embellished some things, but what always stood out to Tony as a kid was Steve’s good humor. The way Howard told it, Cap was a hell of a nice guy. Focused and serious, sure, but quick with a joke or a quiet, reassuring pat on the back. Whatever you needed. His father’s old war stories conjured up in young Tony’s head images from the movies—Steve McQueen in _The Great Escape_. The man his imagination drew up from all his father’s stories amounted to little more than hero worship. The reality of the man, freshly thawed from the Arctic ice, had made his head spin, but then again, he had not been at his best either. They had both come a long way.

Tony was surprised the first time that he noticed Steve sketching in a worn, leather sketchbook. He had just finished getting his ass handed to him in a sparring match with Natasha and came into the kitchen for one of Thor’s horrendous but effective protein shakes (don’t ask, don’t tell had become the silently agreed upon policy regarding Asgardian libations). Steve was sitting at the kitchen table sketching intently while Sam fiddled with the broken wing of the flight pack that was spread all across the table.

“Well well well,” Tony teased, ignoring his previous protein shake plans and walking straight to the table instead. Momentarily sidetracked by Sam’s suit—“Hey! That’s one of mine!”—he approached Steve and craned his neck to see into the sketchbook. Steve’s quick reflexes shut the book before he could see much beyond what appeared to be two partially completed human faces. “I didn’t know you were an artisté, Cap.”

“I’m not, Tony. It’s just a hobby.”

“Don’t be so modest.” Tony reached for the sketchbook, even as Steve slid it out of his grasp. “Fine,” he grumbled, turning his attention back to Sam and his flight suit. “Keep your secrets.” He leaned closer to the table, picking up the wing to examine it closer. “It _is_ one of mine—EXO-7. A military prototype used in Afghanistan if I remember right. How’d you get your hands on it?”

“This baby’s mine,” Sam retorted defensively. Tony’s eyebrow cocked in amusement. “Just had to reclaim her is all.”

“Reclaim…” Tony repeated.

“Right. For national security reasons and all that.” Sam looked over at Steve who smiled and gave him a reassuring nod of his head.

“Oh, well,” Tony dropped the wing back onto the table. “I can get you operational again. If you want. We can’t have national security in jeopardy, now can we?” he added sarcastically.

“You serious?” Sam asked eagerly.

Tony shrugged nonchalantly and returned to his original quest of Thor’s protein potion. “Sure. Bring it down to my lab, and we’ll see what we can do.”

Several hours later, Sam emerged with a working flight pack, complete with several improvements to the original design. Basking in the afterglow of a successful tinkering session, Tony turned his attention to the leaked SHIELD files JARVIS had flagged rather than turn in for the night. The files, he quickly discovered, had to do with his father. Ever since the surprising revelation that he had not been a nuisance to Howard Stark, but actually a source of pride—or something passing for it anyway—Tony had become desperate to connect to the man he had always felt so disconnected from. The newly-leaked SHIELD documents gave him the opportunity to learn more about him, especially who he had been before Tony’s birth. 

As he sifted through the files, he noted most of the batch seemed to be related to the founding of SHIELD itself. He stopped on a series of photographs of his father, young and smiling, oozing charm and smarm in that way that made it impossible not to like the guy, even against your will. Tony smiled back at the photo despite himself. He had learned any number of things from his father, but nothing quite so useful as how to turn wit and sarcasm into results—both in the business world and in the bedroom.

“You know, you remind me a lot of him, Tony.”

Startled, Tony spun around in his seat to find Steve standing in the doorway across the room with a wistful look on his face.

“Yeah, well. I guess there is something to be said about genetics,” Tony replied almost defensively. 

“He wasn’t so closed off as you.” Steve entered the room and approached Tony and the console. 

“I guess there is something to be said about daddy issues.” Tony crossed his arms over his chest. Steve’s brow furrowed in confusion, but then Tony waved his hand dismissively.

“Howard was a good friend.” There was a hint of emotion in Steve’s voice that Tony could not quite place. He looked like he wanted to say something, but was holding back.

“Well, you knew him better than I did,” Tony replied bitterly in a tone that surprised even him. Okay, so apparently he still had some things to work out there. He started to apologize, when he noticed Steve stiffen and taken a deep breath. Tony followed his gaze to a picture of his father standing next to Agent Peggy Carter. He clapped Steve on the back sympathetically. “I guess we all have our hang ups.” 

Steve smiled mournfully and looked away.

“She was happy, Steve,” Tony eyed Steve cautiously. “That is—she had a good life.” He did not want to make the guy uncomfortable, but he felt like this was something that should be said. Nothing in Steve’s demeanor gave him pause, so he continued. “She used to come around, you know? Growing up. To see my father, sure, but she and Jarvis—not the UI, but our butler, well more like an uncle or…—anyway, they went way back. They loved to tell stories about the old days—the SSR, SHIELD, you… 

"I gotta say, Cap, it was a trip meeting you. All those years of all those stories. I grew up with comics and action figures of you, for shit’s sake. You were never a real person to me—just some mythical, god-like creature whose righteousness and good-humor my father used to wax poetic about when he’d knocked back too much scotch.

“So meeting you in person, trying to reconcile the man that the myth, trying to understand how a guy like you could have anything to do with a man like my father—”

“He was a good man,” Steve interrupted, finally, and Tony looked a little mortified by what he had let tumble out of his mouth. “He could be self-centered and shallow. And infuriating, sure. But he was there when you needed him. When it counted. Like I said before, you remind me a lot of him.”

Tony said nothing, but shifted his weight awkwardly. He had assumed Steve’s initial comment had been meant as a slight, an insult. Guess that said something about what he still thought about his old man deep down—and himself for that matter.

“You should come with me to visit her sometime,” Steve said after an awkward silence, his eyes returning to the image on the screen. “Peggy…” he added unnecessarily. 

Tony looked uneasy at the suggestion. “I used to drop in… but then she started calling me ‘Howard’ sometimes. Made things uncomfortable.” He started fiddling with a piece of tech at his workstation. “It’s better to just leave the past in the past. I’d rather remember her how she used to be. She was a hell of a woman.”

“She still is,” Steve responded immediately. 

Tony smiled bittersweetly and gave a nod, dropping what he had been fidgeting with on the table. “Well, Cap. That’s enough bonding for one night.” He motioned to the screen where all of the files JARVIS had flagged remained open. “I’ll leave all this up if you want to play ‘Where Are They Now.’”

He left Steve standing in the glow of the console, lost in the past.

Not long after, a lead from Maria Hill’s people warranted an on-the-ground look-see, and provided an opportunity for the freshly reassembled Avengers to stretch their legs. Tony had insisted that Sam tag along, eager to see how the upgrades to his flight pack worked out. In the weeks of HYDRA Base hopscotch that followed, the team performed like a well-oiled machine, even if they had found nothing really to further their objective.

“Why are these HYDRA stooges always trying to weaponize alien tech?” Tony criticized later, after they were all crammed into the kitchen and dining room of the Tower. Tony had ordered pizza from the air and it was waiting for them when the quinjet touched down. He was eating his slice like a true New Yorker, folded in one hand while the other flipped through the data on the tablet he held in the other. “Look at this!” he exclaimed to no one in particular. “They could be using it to make flying cars or hoverboards or those self-drying jackets from _Back to the Future_. Such underachievers.”

“Why don’t you do that, man?” Sam asked, his brow furrowed and his smile an incredulous smirk. His integration into the team, like his arrival at Avengers Tower, had been seamless. Pleasant even. By the end of the op, he and Tony were giving each other high fives in mid-air and calling one another the call-signs from _Top Gun_—“You’re Goose, cause you’re the bird.”—until Steve had to tell them to shut up and keep the comms clear. 

Goose had Maverick’s full attention now, his eyes looking up from the tablet and his face seeming to say, _“Lay it on me.”_

“Flying cars, hoverboards, couldn’t those be achieved with basically the same tech that runs your suit?”

Tony rolled his eyes, but before he could reply with a flippant remark, Steve chimed in with a totally innocent, “What’s a hoverboard?”

“Oh, that’s just sad, Steve,” Sam shook his head. “Let me see your list.”

Tony set down the tablet and the remainder of his pizza. “That’s it. As leader of this operation—”

“I thought Rogers was in charge?” Clint asked Natasha.

“He is. Stark’s the money.”

Tony glared at the two of them theatrically. “Fine. As _patron_ of this operation, and recreation manager, I hereby declare a mandatory movie night once a week in the name of maintaining group cohesion, but more importantly, to see to the proper education of our dear friend, Steve, here.”

Steve shook his head, but the self-effacing smile on his face revealed him as the good sport he was.

“Ah!” Tony exclaimed, staring down Bruce before the man had even fully opened his mouth to speak. “I said mandatory, Big Guy.”

“Actually, Tony, I was going to suggest we start with _Top Gun._”

Tony snapped his fingers, and then pointed at Bruce. “A splendid idea.”

A little while later, when they had all settled onto the giant U-shaped couch in the common area, Thor leaned over to tell Steve, “Even I have seen this film. My friend Darcy was fond of one part in particular, though I do not recall her showing any other interest in the sport of volleyball.”

“Not the kind of balls she’s after there, Point Break,” Tony shortled, reaching up to flick Thor’s man-bun with his fingers. “Another movie we should watch!”

Steve looked over at Tony quizzically, who returned his glance with a suggestive wag of his eyebrows. “JARVIS?”

“Sir?”

“Roll film.”

* * * * * * 

It wasn’t long before there was a ping in the algorithm searching for any sign of Steve’s assassin friend. Facial recognition had spotted the man entering the Smithsonian about a week after the incident at the Triskelion. Tony watched silently from across the room as Steve inspected the footage, accessed an interior feed and found Bucky staring blank-faced at his own memorial. Several other hits put him back in his old neighborhood in Brooklyn and two more times at the Smithsonian. The most recent sighting was dated a few weeks earlier. Sam and Steve spoke in hushed tones, and Tony could not help but feel out of the loop. 

He began to look around his shop for something to get his mind off his growing anxiety, when he spotted Steve’s drawing book on the sofa near the door. The other man had been sitting there sketching while Tony worked, a routine they had fallen into ever since the night they had the conversation about Howard and Peggy. Steve had evidently left it there when Tony called him over with news of the ping. He stared at it for a moment, wrestling with his conscience a bit before he finally slide his finger into the opening left by the drawing pencil Steve had been using.

The book fell open to reveal what could only be described as a genetics study of Tony and his father. Sketches of both of their faces appeared side by side, with several smaller, less detailed drawings in the margins of both of them making different facial expressions. It was clearly the two-page spread that Tony had seen an unfinished part of that time in the kitchen. He was taken aback, and part of him wanted to close the book immediately. 

But the more he stared at it, the more he could see what Steve had been talking about. The Stark men, drawn here through Steve’s eyes, did bear a strong resemblance to one another. He felt the little hairs on the back of his neck raise, and he glanced up to find Steve looking directly at him, that curious, unreadable expression on his face that he’d had the last time they talked about Howard. It unnerved him, and Tony dropped his eyes, closed the sketchbook, and retreated from his lab.

The following evening, Tony had to make an appearance at some soiree for one of his charities, which normally meant an evening of fake smiles and forced laughter. Fortunately, he had managed to score a date in the form of one Colonel James Rhodes.

“I’m not your date, Tony,” Rhodey insisted after being called that for what seemed like the tenth time.

“You keep treating me like that, and I won’t put out later,” Tony purred into his ear.

Rhodey rolled his eyes and shook his head in defeat. “Pepper and I are going to be having words.”

Tony shrugged. “Good luck sorting out the time zone thing. What time is it in D.C.?”

“The exact same time it is here.”

“Oh! Is that how that works?” Tony replied smartly. “Guess there’s really no excuse for all the missed calls then.”

Ever since his return to New York, Tony had seen less and less of Pepper, whose role as CEO of Stark Industries saw her otherwise engaged. With Tony’s relocation to the east coast, there were even fewer opportunities for them to meet. The Avengers offered him a decent distraction, even though him suiting up again had been a point of contention in their relationship. Pepper did not understand why he could not just fund and supply the Avengers, and Tony could not figure out a way to explain that he needed to finish what he started two years ago in the battle for New York. The geographic distance allowed them each to pretend that they weren’t both disappointing one another.

Rhodey looked at Tony disapprovingly. “Don’t fuck this up, man.”

Tony waved his hand as if he were shooing a fly, and Rhodey sighed. For the rest of the night, Tony was all charm and smarm and Rhodey saw though it immediately.

* * * * * *

The next ping was for the team. Steve was back and Sam was following up on a secondary lead on their Cold War target. The intel pointed to eastern Europe again, with Maria Hill’s people giving an exact location for the sceptre—a HYDRA base outside of Novi Grad in Sokovia.

“How reliable is this intel?” Steve had asked Hill. And she had given him a coy smile and replied, “The best.” Tony made a mental note to follow up with Maria on that later.

And so the Avengers assembled and piled into the quinjet. Six remarkable people, battle-tested, a team. A family. Tony did not throw that word around lightly. Family was something he made for himself. A chosen family was all he had left.

But like most everything else in his life, it was about to be laid to waste.


End file.
